2025-02-02 17:31:11Carrick walked to the garage, wondering what his father's mysterious business deal was about. He felt uneasy, but he couldn't quite put his finger on why. If this business deal was as important as his father made it out to be, then why didn't he send Domino? Domino had always been his favorite. Carrick decided to see this through.. as this was the only way to redeem himself and earn the family's respect.
Edgar, the driver, greeted him and asked if he was ready. Carrick nodded and got into the car. As they drove, Carrick's mind kept going back to his father's words: "Clear away the shame." But something didn't feel right.
The car stopped at a deserted warehouse. Edgar told Carrick to wait while he checked if everything was ready. Carrick watched as Edgar entered the warehouse, feeling his heart pound in his chest.
Suddenly, footsteps echoed from the shadows. A voice called out, "Carrick Gale, welcome." Carrick turned to see a figure emerging from the darkness.
"Who are you?" Carrick asked, trying to stay calm.
"I'm someone who's been waiting for you," the figure replied, its voice dripping with malice. "Your father made a deal with us, and you're part of it."
Carrick's instincts screamed at him to run, but he wanted answers. "What kind of deal?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.
The figure chuckled. "You'll find out soon enough. But for now, let's just say you're in our hands."
Suddenly, Edgar appeared beside him, his eyes cold and hard. "Sorry, Carrick. I had no choice."
"What do you mean you had no choice? What's going on." Carrick asked in confusion.
"There was never any merchandise to pick up. I brought you here to die." Edgar replied with the same expressionless face.
Carrick felt a wave of betrayal wash over him. "You're in on this too?"
Edgar shrugged. "I'm just following orders."
The figure gestured to a group of men emerging from the shadows. "Take him away."
Carrick struggled against his captors, but they were too strong. They threw him into a dimly lit room, the door slamming shut behind him. The sound echoed through the space, making Carrick's heart race.
"Welcome, Carrick," one of them said, their voice devoid of emotion. "Your father sends his regards."
Carrick's eyes adjusted to the light, and he saw Edgar standing in the corner, his eyes downcast. Carrick's mind raced with questions. His mind still refused to believe that his father and Edgar would set him up. If they wanted him dead so much, why didn't they just kill him back at the mansion, why go through all these trouble? All he can do is hope that whatever this man was saying is wrong, and Edgar would find a way to help him out of here.
"Edgar, what's going on?" Carrick asked, trying to keep his voice steady. "Why are you here?"
Edgar didn't respond, his eyes fixed on the floor. Carrick's anger grew. Was Edgar really betraying him too?
The captor who spoke earlier stepped forward. "Your father wants you taken care of, Carrick. Permanently."
Carrick's heart skipped a beat. His father had ordered his own son's execution. He couldn't believe it.
"Why?" Carrick asked, trying to stall for time. "What have I done?"
The captor shrugged. "You're a liability. And after we're done with you, Edgar here will be taken care of too."
Edgar's eyes flickered, but he still didn't speak. Carrick knew he had to act fast. He had to escape, and he had to protect Edgar. He knew from Edgar's downcast expression, he didn't want this to happen, but had no choice as he had to follow his father's orders.. a low-level mafia member is a pawn, a chesspiece that can be discarded as trash whenever the big boss wishes, and the pawn can't do anything but accept. But what about him? Would he, Carrick Gale, accept this?
"You're not going to get away with this," Carrick said, trying to sound braver than he felt.
The captor laughed. "Oh, I think we will. Your father has paid us well to make sure this is a clean job."
Carrick's mind raced. He had to think of something, anything, to get out of this situation.
*
Carrick's captors tied him up, his wrists and ankles bound by thick rope. He struggled, but it was no use. They dragged him out of the room, Edgar's lifeless body following behind. They had killed Edgar because they felt he might prove difficult later on, so a bullet to his head solved their problem.
"You're a foolish boy, Carrick," one of the captors sneered. "You should have stayed out of this."
Carrick spat at his feet. "You'll pay for this. My father will make sure of it." Till now, he chose not to believe his father had a hand in this.
The captor laughed. "Your father's the one who ordered this. You're just a pawn in his game. What's so difficult to accept?"
They reached the car, the same one Carrick had arrived in with Edgar. The captors tossed Carrick into the backseat, Edgar's body thrown in beside him.
"Please," Carrick begged, "Don't do this. Just let me go."
The captor just smiled. "You're going to be a nice little bonfire."
One of the captors poured fuel around the car, the smell of gasoline filling the air. Carrick's heart raced as he realized their plan.
"No, no, no!" Carrick screamed, thrashing against his bonds. "You can't do this!"
Just as they were about to light the fuel, gunshots rang out. A gang fight had erupted nearby, the sound of shouting and screeching tires filling the air.
"What the...?" one of the captors exclaimed, momentarily distracted.
That's when a stray bullet found its way to the car, piercing the fuel-soaked metal.
The car erupted in a blaze of fire, Carrick and Edgar's bodies trapped inside, while his captors were blown away to kingdoms come. Carrick's screams were drowned out by the roar of the flames, his world consumed by heat and darkness.
"No!" Carrick shouted, his voice hoarse from smoke. "Mother!"
But it was too late. The flames
engulfed them, and everything went black.
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CHAPTER 124: NO SAINTS IN THE SMOKE
The storm rolled over the city like a judgment long overdue, thunder rumbling low in the belly of the clouds. Rain spat against the windows of the Gale estate, but inside, the air was dry and charged.Carrick stood at the far end of the war room, his back to the door, eyes fixed on a map of the city pocked with red pins. Each one was a wound. A betrayal. A ghost.Victor stepped in without knocking. “We lost another shipment.”Carrick didn’t turn. “Where?”“Dock 17. South bay. Alessia’s people torched it. Again.”A long silence. Carrick’s hand clenched the edge of the table. “How many?”“Five men dead. Two missing. One of them was Piero.”Carrick finally turned. His eyes were darker than the storm outside. “Piero was loyal.”Victor nodded grimly. “He went down fighting.”“Good,” Carrick said softly, then added after a pause, “He deserves to be remembered for that. Not for dying under my command.”Victor watched him carefully. “You can’t keep bleeding people for territory, Carrick. She’
CHAPTER 123: SMOKE AND STEEL
Rain fell over the city like ash, thick and slow, soaking into the concrete and steel. A storm had rolled in from the east, as if summoned by the violence still hanging in the air. The streets were quieter than usual. Tension had a sound, and tonight, it whispered from the shadows.Carrick Gale stood beneath the awning of the Gale estate, a glass of dark rum in his hand and a Glock tucked beneath his coat. The wind stirred the edges of his coat, as if nature itself was uneasy around him.Victor approached from the gates, soaked to the bone. He didn’t complain. He never did."Kovac's gone dark," he said without preamble. "No one’s heard from him since the warehouse incident. His men are pulling out of shared zones. It smells like retreat, but I think he’s coiling. Waiting."Carrick didn’t look at him. "And Salvi?""Still playing both sides. Meeting with Alessia’s people through back channels. Lucien's face has been spotted near the docks.""Then it’s started."Victor paused. "You could
CHAPTER 122: A WHISPER BEFORE THE STORM
Carrick Gale didn’t sleep anymore.He sat in the estate’s underground war room, the dim light of the overhead bulbs casting jagged shadows across his face. The map table before him was marked with fresh ink...blue for neutral territories, black for allies, and red for enemies. The red bled across the city like an open wound.Victor stood near the door, arms folded, watching him. “You haven’t said a word in hours.”Carrick’s fingers traced a circle around a warehouse in the South District. “She’s baiting us.”Victor stepped closer. “You think Alessia wants us to strike?”“She wants me to overreach. She’s picked at the edges...cut off our money, turned the Kovac crew against us. That was precise. Surgical.” He looked up, eyes bloodshot but burning. “She’s not lashing out. She’s hunting.”Victor let out a slow breath. “So what do we do?”Carrick pushed the map aside. “We stop reacting. Start moving like predators, not prey.”Footsteps echoed down the corridor, and Marco entered, face pal
CHAPTER 121: CRIMSON TIDES
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Carrick Gale stood before the towering glass window of the penthouse war room, his silhouette sharp against the bruised skyline. Nightfall draped the city in a veil of steel and sorrow, the streets below lit by flickering orange glows and distant sirens. He hadn't moved in over an hour.Victor entered quietly, coat damp with rain, boots leaving a trail of water across the marble. "They hit the Raven's Gate warehouse," he said. "Three dead. Two more missing. One of them was Nico."Carrick didn’t flinch. "And the shipments?""Gone. Up in smoke. Alessia’s people left a message painted across the wall."Victor tossed a folded photo onto the table. Scrawled in red were the words: "Not vengeance. Balance."Carrick turned from the window at last. "How many hits this week?""Five. Small-time dealers are flipping. Our suppliers in the Eastside are scared. She's bleeding us slow."Enzo burst through the door next, phone still in hand. "Boss, we’ve got a bigger problem. Arturo Salvi’s name is ba
CHAPTER 119: WHEN THE KNIVES CAME OUT
Rain fell in fine needles over the city, soft but ceaseless, muting the hum of traffic and neon. It was the kind of rain that made streets feel deserted even when people passed you by. It clung to everything, soaking the sidewalks, the cigarette butts crushed into gutters, the shoes of men walking to war.Carrick Gale stood at the balcony of his estate, coat unbuttoned, letting the rain slide off his skin. He needed the cold. It grounded him. The city looked blurred from up here, dreamlike, as if it were trying to disguise its sins behind a veil of water.Victor approached from behind, his footsteps soft. "We have a problem."Carrick didn’t look back. "Just one?"Victor handed him a phone. "It’s Enzo. You need to hear this."Carrick took the phone and brought it to his ear. Enzo’s voice was a mix of urgency and exhaustion."They hit the South Ward stash. Burned it. Took everything. Left our guys in pieces."Carrick's jaw tightened. "Alessia?""Her style. They were efficient. Precise.
